


too bright to see, too loud to hear

by yosgay



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Gladnis if you squint, M/M, Mutual Pining, Power Outage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-05
Updated: 2017-08-05
Packaged: 2018-12-11 08:45:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11710905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yosgay/pseuds/yosgay
Summary: Noct tuts. “Gotta protect me better if you want heals. Chop chop, Prom-pom,” he says, flashing a shit-eating grin.“Goddds,” Prompto groans, “not evenroyaltyis gonna get away with calling me that stupid nickname for much longer.” Prompto tosses his controller and puts up his fists. “Your days are numbered, dude.”Noct barks a laugh, thumbs still working the joysticks. “Pfft. I could take you.”Prompto snorts and opens his mouth to quip back when the lights flicker, and another booming crash shakes the apartment. They both look up at the lights, and then at each other, and then with a bright flash of lightning andcrackfrom outside the window, they wink out completely.(Or: two idiots realize their feelings for each other with the help of some accidental mood-lighting.)





	too bright to see, too loud to hear

**Author's Note:**

> did somebody say idiots in love? no? how about idiots in love... (spongebob voice) by candlelight

“Dude, _dude_ , heal me!”

“You’re halfway across the damn map Prom, you have to _come_ to me for-“

“Shit, I died,” Prompto groans, throwing himself backwards against the pile of pillows and blankets on Noct’s living room floor. “You killed me. Are you happy? You’re a _murderer_.”

“Not my fault you broke line of sight! How am I supposed to fly to you when you’re _flanking_?” Noctis tries to hold his controller out of the reach of Prompto’s flailing arms, laughing and trying to keep his game going, when a long roll of thunder sounds and the night’s gentle rain starts to pick up. Lightning flashes bright outside, and Noct barely registers the worried crease of Prompto’s brow as he grabs his controller, because within ten seconds of respawning he’s dead again.

Noct tuts. “Gotta protect me better if you want heals. Chop chop, Prom-pom,” he says, flashing a shit-eating grin.

“ _Goddds_ ,” Prompto groans, _“_ not even _royalty_ is gonna get away with calling me that stupid nickname for much longer.” Prompto tosses his controller and puts up his fists. “Your days are numbered, dude.”

Noct barks a laugh, thumbs still working the joysticks. “Pfft. I could take you.”

Prompto snorts and opens his mouth to quip back when the lights flicker, and another booming crash shakes the apartment. They both look up at the lights, and then at each other, and then with a bright flash and _crack_ from outside the window, they wink out completely.

“Oh _shit_ ,” Noct says, scrambling next to Prompto, pressing their shoulders together to ground himself and steady his heartbeat as another roll of thunder sounds, Prompto’s warmth calming him down quicker than it probably should. He blinks rapidly, trying to adjust his eyes to the dark and feel his way around, instead getting them both tangled in the mess of blankets they were cocooned in for their weekend of goofing off. “Where’s my damn phone?”

“Noct! Wait, dude, fuck, the game shut off. My _rank!_ ”

Noctis scoffs and rolls his eyes clear into the next century. “Can we _focus_ here? I can’t see shit. Plus, you were totally about to lose anyway.”

“Hey!”

Prompto tries to swat at Noctis in the pitch black, while they both feel around for their phones in the pile. “Dunno where I left it, shit.” He tries to get up, wobbly and a little disoriented, still seeing spots. “Prom, dude, help me find a flashlight.”

Prompto sighs lazily, and Noct hears him very unhelpfully flop down on the couch behind them.

“Prom.”

“Noct,” Prompto parrots, and Noct can just barely see the silhouette of him hanging upside down off the couch, winking in and out of focus as the lightning outside flashes through the window.

“ _Help_ ,” he says, and flicks his leg.

Prompto groans and rolls off the couch, feeling around dramatically even though both their eyes are starting to adjust, putting his hands all over Noct’s face and shoulders in mock-search until he physically has to push him off so they can look for _real_.

“Aha!” Prompto says, triumphant, as he grabs his phone hiding under a pillow, and they flinch back as both their faces are lit up by his blindingly bright background - a selfie of both of them decked out in colorful shirts and hats for the chocobo festival last year. “Ill _uuu_ minate!”

Noct chuckles fondly, his heart squeezing a little traitorous squeeze inside his chest. “You’re such a nerd.”

Prompto uses his flashlight app to help Noct find his own phone, so he can text Ignis and ask where all the damn flashlights are. Noct has no idea where anything is in his own apartment, since Iggy cleans everything up anyway. Well, mostly. Noct does try, at least. 

Noct exits the group chat (ignoring an entire full-length conversation between Prompto and Gladio using only chocobo emoji’s, because _what_ ) and opens up a new text to Ignis.

 **nocobo:** IGGY  
**nocobo:** emergency  
**iggy smalls:** Is everything alright, Noct??  
**nocobo:** power’s out. wht do i do

Noctis can practically hear his exasperated sigh from the Citadel. He probably shouldn’t have used the word _emergency_ within ten miles of Iggy, but, well.

 **iggy smalls:** There are some candles in the wash room and matches in the kitchen.  
**iggy smalls:** However, the storm doesn’t seem to be letting up. I’d light them and settle in. Is Prompto with you?  
**nocobo:** u know it  
**iggy smalls:** Ah.   
**nocobo:** and what is THAT supposed 2 mean??  
**iggy smalls:** Nothing at all, Highness : ) Do let me know if you need any assistance  
**nocobo:** :pp  
**nocobo:** thanks specs  
**iggy smalls:** You’re welcome.

“Iggy says the storm’s gonna last awhile,” Noct says, clicking off his phone to save the battery. “Help me find some candles, yeah?”

They dig around the bathroom for the candles (herb-infused and lilac scented, _really Iggy_?) and arrange them on the living room table, carefully lighting each one with a pack of matches. The rain is pounding against the roof and there’s constant rumbling and flashing outside the windows, making both boys a little jumpy. The storm’s likely right above them now, Noct can feel it in his joints and old injuries. 

He flops down on the pile of blankets and stretches lightly, Prompto sitting cross-legged next to him and arranging the candles so they don’t catch on something and burn the place to the ground. Best to be on the safe side. If he died in a stupid fire, Gladio would definitely kill him.

Noct looks up at Prompto and his breath catches on the inhale, because his blond hair’s glowing in the dim light like a halo framing his face, the soft flickering making his eyes sparkle. He sticks out his tongue in concentration, flinching a little when his fingers get too close to the dancing flame of the candle he’s picking up, and Noct reminds himself how to breathe. He reaches across the table, and his shirt rides up a little, showing a little sliver of midriff, and Noct has to physically _make_ himself look away. Gods _damn_ it.

Prompto folds his hands behind his head and lays down next to Noct, who shifts away just the slightest bit, hugging his arms to his chest.

“Noct,” Prompto whispers, dramatically. “ _Nooooct_.”

Noctis rolls his eyes, smiling a little despite himself. “What?”

“Noct Noct.”

Noctis drags a hand down his face. “Who's there?”

“You, dumbass.”

“ _Prompto_ ,” 

“Alright sorry,” he says, giggling some, and flips over to face Noctis. “But dude, I’m _bored_. And your apartment’s spooky as hell in the dark.”

Noctis hums. “I think we have a deck of cards. Or some board games in the closet, maybe?” He sits up, rubbing the back of his neck and looking pointedly at the candles, and not Prompto’s stupid face, all soft and pretty in the low light.

“Duuude,” he groans, “that literally has the word bored _in the title_.”

Noct swats at his arm. “Gimmie a break here, man. It’s the best I’ve got.”

“Fiiiiiiine. Cards, though.” Prompto sits up, smiling wide. “Guess I’ll just have to kick your ass at Go Fish, then.”

Noctis lets out a short laugh. “Yeah right, Blondie. They don’t call me the King of Fishing for nothing.”

“Literally no one calls you that.”

“ _Whatever_ ,” Noct pouts, punching Prompto’s shoulder lightly and folding his arms. “Just go get the cards, will ya?”

Prompto rolls his eyes, and armed with a tiny lavender-scented bath candle, goes to raid the hall closet for a deck of cards, and Noctis uses the opportunity to get some advice. He’s dying here.

 **nocobo:** hey specs  
**nocobo:** new plan i need something  
**iggy smalls:** Are you both alright?  
**nocobo:** i lit the stupid candles  
**nocobo:** and now we’re hanging out. by candlelight. _candlelight_ , iggy.  
**nocobo:** mistakes were made  
**iggy smalls:** Ah, I see. No better time to confess, of course : )  
**nocobo:** NO

Once again, Noctis can swear he hears a sigh over the damn thunder. 

 **iggy smalls:** Have it your way, Highness. Do take care not to burn down your apartment.  
**nocobo:** uuuuuuuugh  
**nocobo:** hey wait up  
**nocobo:** what’s gladio’s advice??  
**iggy smalls:** And what makes you think Gladio is here?  
**nocobo:** oh cmon ;)  
**iggy smalls:** …  
**iggy smalls:** Goodnight, Noct.  
**nocobo:** :ppp

“Watcha doin’?” Prompto’s voice is right behind him all of the sudden, and Noctis throws his phone halfway across the room and bangs his elbow into the coffee table. Prompto collapses into their little nest, holding his stomach laughing, and Noct punches him in the shoulder.

“ _Shiva_ ,” he swears, “warn a guy first!” He holds his sore elbow and bites back a laugh out of pure indignance, no matter how infectious Prompto’s laughter is. 

“Got the cards,” he grins, holding up the Moogle-edition deck. They deal out, and dive headfirst into a heated, no-nonsense bout of go-fish, where Noct finds himself getting his ass formally _handed_ to him. In a _fishing-themed game_ , no less. He’s ashamed of himself.

“A perfect marksmen and now you’re a regular card hustler,” Noct huffs, throwing his hands up and then running them messily through his hair after Prompto’s third win in a row. “ _Gods_ Prom, any other skills I should know about?”

Prompto laughs, ringing and beautiful, his bangs falling in front of his eyes, and Noct giggles along even though he has to bite his cheek and look away. He’s glad the lighting’s so dim, because he’s definitely flushing, and he doesn’t need his dumb feelings to ruin their good time.

“Whatever dude, not my fault I’m so charming and talented,” he says with a triumphant smile, picking up the deck and making to deal again. Noct groans, and his cheeks _definitely_ aren’t heating up again.

“No _way_ Prom,” he says, grabbing for his hands. “You’re not dealing again. You _cheat_.”

Prompto’s hand goes to his chest in mock offense, and he gasps, scandalized. “Noct, how can you say that? After everything we’ve _been_ through.”

Noct punches him in the arm, swiping the deck, and pointedly ignoring the sparks that travel all the way down the length of his arm when their fingers brush, because now his stupid traitor body is just being _corny_.

“Alright _fiiine_ ,” he says, leaning back against the couch and yawning indulgently. “I’m tired of kicking your ass anyways. What else do you wanna do?”

“I’unno, what do _you_ wanna do?” Noct says, teasing and unhelpful.

And Prompto laughs a second, and then stops. He seems to consider this, his smile slowly fading into something a little more thoughtful, and he purses his lips. Prompto’s so _expressive_ , and Noct doesn’t know what’s going through his head, but whatever it is, he’s hesitating. And even through the dim light casting shadows on his face, Noct could swear he sees a blush on his freckled cheeks.

He busies himself with the cards, trying to look like he has any idea how to properly shuffle them when his hands are trembling and his palms are starting to sweat a little bit. While Prompto drums his fingers on his legs and sits there, lost in thought, Noct pretends he’s not having a total meltdown and is ten seconds from grabbing his phone and making a run for the bathroom, and _begging_ Gladio and Ignis to come run interference. 

The low light’s gotta be playing tricks on his eyes. Prompto’s probably just trying to figure out how to play video games with no electricity, or how to rewire the whole apartment to run on, like, a potato or something, but Prompto has no idea what the silence is _doing_ to him.

Prompto’s fingers stop tapping, and he looks up, meeting Noct’s eyes like a magnetic pull. They flick away and come back, like he’s _trying_ to keep them there, to steel himself, and Noct freezes.

Is it possible to get high blood pressure when you’re a teenager? _Hey dad, sorry, can’t rule the country, I’m too busy dying of a heart attack because my best friend’s so fucking cute-_

Prompto licks his lips. “We could, um,” he starts, _actually_ flushing, Noct’s pretty sure this time, and apparently can’t finish. Noct doesn’t know what _um_ means, but he abruptly realizes that whatever it is, he’d dive straight into the lava of Ravatogh if Prompto asked him to with that hopeful look on his face.

 _Um_ what? _Um_ go eat some junk food? _Um_ play another round of cards? _Um_ throw Noct outside to get struck by lightning before he godsdamn _dies anyway_? 

When Prompto blinks a few times and then shifts closer to the table, closer to Noct, he drops half the cards on the floor, and neither of them even notice. Rain’s drumming softly in the background, the storm having calmed down some, the only noise aside from Noct’s heartbeat ringing like canon-fire in his ears.

Prompto’s hand comes to rest on the table, their pinkies barely touching, and it might as well be on fire. Noct’s pretty sure he looks a mess - eyes wide and mouth half-open, totally frozen like he’s watching this all from someone else’s body - as Prompto leans closer, eyes all determination and diamond-bright in the candlelight.

Noctis takes a deep breath through the fluttering in his stomach, forces his concrete limbs to _move_ and meet him half way, and lets the universe recede into nothing until it’s just the two of them sitting here in the soft glow of a dozen candles, about to do the one thing Noct’s wanted since the first godsdamn time they _met_ \- and then a harsh _beep_ sounds, and all the lights come back on at once, blinding both of them and sending them flying backwards. 

Noct slams his already bruised elbow on the coffee table and almost sends a candle flying, swearing loudly and grabbing at his arm as he tries to work out _what in the hell just happened_. 

“What the fuck-“ Prompto gasps, shielding his eyes and grabbing for the remote as the TV comes on, blaring their video game theme at full volume. They both scramble around and try to collect themselves for a second, rubbing their eyes with how _bright_ everything is after sitting around in the dark all night. 

Noct’s tries to calm down his breathing, a hand pressed to his chest, which is absolutely the product of having the shit scared out of him, and totally nothing else. He looks over at Prompto and takes in his state of disarray and the wildly confused look on his face, which he probably mirrors perfectly, and he can’t help it as a laugh bubbles out and takes over. Prompto levels him with a glare, and whacks him with a pillow.

“Oh you’re _on_ ,” Noct says, and jumping at him with a pillow of his own, and preparing for battle. Prompto shrieks and scrambles away, much faster than Noctis, and he narrowly escapes a chocobo-pattern pillow case to the face. 

They wage a fine war for forty-five minutes, with only a few casualties in the form of a broken picture frame and an upturned coffee-table, which Ignis will probably kill Noct for later, but he can’t seem to care. They’re collapsed on their blanket-heap again, messy-haired and breathing hard and giggling like a couple of grade-school boys, and Noct finds himself feeling content, and inexplicably sleepy. He yawns indulgently, and Prompto tries to stifle one of his own.

“Dammit Noct,” Prompto says, covering his mouth. “You gave me the yawn bug. I wasn’t even _tired_.”

“It’s your own damn fault,” Noct says, sleepily. “You know I can only stay conscious for like, an hour tops. I feel like I just worked out with Gladio.” 

Prompto’s eyes go wide as he flips over to face him. “ _Dude_ ,” he says, as gravely serious as anyone’s ever said _dude_. “How many ways you think he could kill somebody with a _pillow_? _”_ He shudders.

“Probably like, a dozen,” Noct says, shifting onto his side to get more comfortable. “I can’t believe he’s been training me with stupid _broadswords_ this whole time. I could’ve kicked your _ass_.”

Prompto snorts, “you wish,” and wrinkles his nose, laughing, and it’s so endearing and so damn _cute_ , Noct is suddenly _overcome_ , feeling himself smile without even meaning to, all fond and loving and _way_ too open for being a foot away from the guy. Prompto notices the air shift, painting it all over his face, and immediately Noct’s wide awake, noticing _exactly_ how close they’re laying, and replaying the seconds before the power went on in his head. 

He figured that was just… a fluke, or something, like, an atmospheric reaction. They were hanging out by _candlelight_ , for Astral’s sake, and Specs must have gotten into his head. But Prompto’s staring, that open, hopeful look again, and maybe, just maybe. It wasn’t his imagination?

Noct sucks in a sharp breath, musters all the bravery he’s got. Perfect time for a confession? Maybe he can… get a foot in the door, at least.

“So…” Noct says, and Prompto’s eyes snap to his, bright blue and burning. “What was that you wanted to, um, do? Before,” he clarifies, lamely, biting the inside of his cheek so hard it hurts.

Prompto’s eyelashes flutter, and relief floods his features, like that’s the invitation he’s been waiting for. “This,” he says, and moves quicker than Noct’s ever seen - which is _saying_ something - and presses a peck to Noct’s lips before he can even realize what’s happened. The he pulls back and bites his lip, smiling the most bashful and endearing and godsdamn _beautiful_ smile Noct’s ever seen in his whole _life_ , and then he flips over and buries himself in the blankets. 

“Wha-?” Noct says helpfully, more of a stupid squeak in his throat than actual words, but his lips are tingling and he’s feeling a little or maybe a lot on fire right now, because Prompto just - he just, he _kissed_ him, and that realization has Noct _floating_. “Prom - did you, did we just -“ and he cuts himself off when Prompto burrows himself deeper into the stupid blankets, tangling himself until all Noct can see his a spike of unruly blonde hair sticking out of a Prompto-shaped lump.

And then he starts _fake-snoring_. The fucker.

Noctis shakes him and paws at the blankets until they’re both tangled, giggling their heads off and drunk off of each other, and when Noctis finally gets him free, Prompto pulls him into another flurry of kisses - proper ones this time - until they both fall asleep in a tired, lazy mess, both of their cheeks hurting from smiling so hard.

And when Ignis lets himself in to check on them in the morning, and finds them both wrapped up in each other and snoring softly, he can only smile, and force himself not to wake them both to say _I told you so._

**Author's Note:**

> y'all know prompto was ALSO texting ignis at the exact same time having the exact same crisis and it took all his royal will power not to send “for astral's sake just bloody KISS ALREADY” to the damn group chat


End file.
